Off My Radar
by heeha
Summary: Harry is convinced that Tom Riddle is good. Then the confession comes. And after, everything is thrown into disarray. AU, Tom/Harry
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I've been wanting to write a first-person fanfic for a while now, so this is it. I don't know if I'll continue this though. It depends on the response I get for each chapter. Thus, if you like this story, please leave a review so I can gauge how well the reception is to the story. The title is temporary too. I might change it later on. Anyway, enough babbling from me. I hope you enjoy!

Off My Radar  
By heeha

Chapter 1

(Harry's POV)

The sun slowly dips below the horizon as the train chugs along to its destination - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I sit inside the train, watching the sun's descent, as my friends squabble about god knows what.

" - isn't that right, Harry?" says Hermione suddenly. I have absolutely no idea as to what she's talking about.

Turning my head to look at her, I say, "Er, yeah. Right." Hermione smiles triumphantly.

"See, Ron? I told you!" she says. I direct my gaze to Ron, who has a scowl on his face.

"Yeah, well, whatever," says Ron, crossing his arms. "I can't believe you agree with Hermione on this."

I shrug and say, "Well, it doesn't really matter anyway," pretending to know what I'm talking about when I actually have absolutely no clue whatsoever.

Ron suddenly smiles, "Y'know, mate, you're right. It _doesn't_ matter. I can't believe we got so worked up about this."

"Well, _you _started it," huffs Hermione. "I was merely correcting you."

Ron rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We all know how much you love Tom Riddle."

"I do NOT love Tom Riddle," says Hermione indignantly. "I just can't stand factual inaccuracies."

"You can call it a factual inaccuracy, but deep down, I still think he's a git in disguise," says Ron. Oh. So they're talking about Tom Riddle. That's nothing new.

"And that's why I say you're unfairly biased against him," says Hermione. "He hasn't done anything to you, or anyone else for that matter, yet you still believe the worst of him."

"It's not being biased, Hermione," says Ron. "It's called trusting my gut instincts. And it just so happens that my gut instincts tell me that Tom Riddle is bad news."

"Well, your gut instincts are wrong this time," says Hermione assertively. "Tom Riddle has been nothing but an exceptional role model and student. Just because he's perfect in everything he does, doesn't mean there's something wrong with him."

"I'm not basing my perception on how perfect he is, Hermione. I just get this bad feeling whenever I'm around him," says Ron.

"Judging someone based on unfounded feelings is ridiculous!" exclaims Hermione. "What if I thought you were evil just because I got a bad feeling about you? How would you like to be thought of in that way?"

Ron frowns. "Well, I would think you were a biased bitch, but that's beside the point. You don't get a bad feeling about me, so you can't use that as an example."

"My example shows how biased you're being, and the fact that you would think I'm a biased bitch if I thought you were evil from a bad feeling only further supports my point of view!"

Suddenly, the compartment's door opens, and who should it be but Tom freaking Riddle. He looks at us, raises an eyebrow, and says, "Who's calling Granger a biased bitch now?"

Hermione blushes a furious red. "No one is, Tom. It was just an example." Tom cocks his head to the side.

"Sounds like an interesting example to me," says Tom. "What was it based on?"

"We were just talking about making judgments based on gut feelings, and I was saying how it's not fair to judge someone as evil just because you get a bad feeling from them," elaborates Hermione.

"While that may be right in theory, Hermione, in reality, I would trust my gut instincts," says Tom. Ron grins widely while Hermione gapes at Tom.

"WHAT?!" exclaims Hermione. "Why would you trust your gut instincts if I'm right in theory?"

"Because," says Tom, "my gut instincts have never been wrong before. Besides, even if the person isn't evil, I'm sure it would be of no great loss to me if I were to distance myself from that person. I have plenty of friends and acquaintances already. Losing one potential acquaintance is hardly of any consequence to me." His eyes meet my own and he asks, "What about you, Potter? What do you think?" Dammit. Why is everybody asking for my opinion on this?

"Er...Well..." I start, trying to buy some time to think of something to say. Neutral ground seems to be the safest side to take, so I say, "I think it depends on the person. Sometimes a gut feeling could be right, and sometimes it could be wrong. It all depends."

Tom nods his head in agreement. "That's true; it's always dependent on the person. How very astute of you to point that out." I flash a small smile at him for his compliment, which he returns with a smirk of his own. Whatever bad feelings Ron gets from Tom, I'm not getting them. So maybe Hermione is right about Tom. Maybe Ron's gut instincts are wrong this time.

"So how has my favourite golden trio been doing?" asks Tom, taking a seat opposite us in the compartment.

"Since when have we been your favourite golden trio?" inquires Ron. Hermione elbows him hard in the ribs, causing Ron to yelp in pain.

"Don't mind him, Tom. He's just being difficult," says Hermione. Tom raises an eyebrow, but says nothing in response. "We've been doing fine, overall. Thanks for asking." She flashes a bright smile at him, blatantly ignoring Ron, who's gently nursing his ribs. "How was your summer?"

"Tedious, as usual," says Tom. "Life without magic is pretty dull. I can't wait to come of age and be rid of these ridiculous age restrictions."

"Why? What do you plan to do when you're no longer bounded by rules?" asks Ron.

"Let's just say, I have great plans," says Tom cryptically.

"Do you plan on becoming Minister for Magic, Tom?" asks Hermione. "I think you'd be a great Minister."

"Perhaps," says Tom. "I haven't decided what sort of career path I plan to pursue just yet. My options are still open."

"You're lucky you have so many options," I cut in. "Some of us aren't so lucky."

Tom turns to look at me. "You already have a career path in mind though, don't you, Potter? If I'm not mistaken, I believe you want to be an Auror, don't you?"

"Yes," I admit. "I want to be an Auror. But I was talking about people in general. Some people have a limited number of careers to choose from, seeing as how they didn't do so well on their exams."

"As long as you're not one of them, you have nothing to worry about," says Tom. His crimson eyes meet mine. "You aren't one of them, are you?"

"Thankfully, no," I say, grinning. "I have Hermione to thank for that."

"Of course you would have the brilliant Hermione Granger to assist you," says Tom. I divert my gaze to Hermione, who's blushing beet red at Tom's compliments.

"I'm not _that _brilliant, Tom," says Hermione modestly. "I'm not as brilliant as you."

"Perhaps you're not," says Tom, "but you come a close second." If possible, Hermione's face turns even redder at Tom's compliment. Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I would think that Hermione actually fancied Tom. However, I happen to know that Hermione has liked Ron for ages, and vice versa. She just holds Tom in high esteem.

As we feel the train come to a stop, Tom stands up from his seat across from us. "Well, I better head back to my compartment. I'll see you guys around." We say our goodbyes to Tom, who opens the door to our compartment and leaves. When the train stops, Hermione, Ron, and I gather our things and get off the train. Horseless carriages transport us to the castle in fifteen minutes, which is pretty fast if you ask me. We enter the castle through the grand oak doors and sit down at the Gryffindor table, waiting expectantly for the sorting to start.

The sorting takes half an hour to finish, after which Dumbledore thankfully says, "Tuck in!" A feast appears before our eyes, and we dig in hungrily, eating every treacle tart and goose leg that we can get our hands on. I stuff myself full of food, having been deprived of it back at the Dursleys. I must look like a pig to my peers, but I don't really care. They don't have to follow the agonizingly sparse Dudley Dursley diet like I do.

When the feast is over, Dumbledore dismisses us, and we all start to head to our common rooms. As I pass by the Slytherin table, my eyes snag on Tom, who's laughing merrily among his Slytherin friends. He looks so carefree and happy. There's no way that Ron's right about him. Even if Tom trusts his gut instincts, Ron's instincts must be mistaken, because all I see right now is a talented wizard, happy among friends.

Tom suddenly catches my eye. He smirks and raises his hand in greeting. I smile and raise my left hand in return before turning away and heading back to Gryffindor Tower.

Ron must be wrong about Tom Riddle. After all, how can Tom, model student and friend to many, be anything but good?


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Hi everyone, I'm back with another chapter! I'm not so sure it works with the summary and the beginning of the fic, but it's what I've got right now, so I'm posting it for now until I see fit to make changes. I hope you enjoy!

Off My Radar

By heeha

Chapter 2

Tom has many admirers. From Slytherin to Hufflepuff, girls and boys fawn over him everywhere he goes. People confess their undying love to him at least once a week, hoping that they'll be the one Tom chooses to be his boyfriend or girlfriend. However, as far as I know, Tom has turned every single admirer down, boys and girls alike. Why, I'm not sure. It's not like everybody who's confessed to him is unattractive or stupid. Hell, Cho Chang confessed her feelings to Tom a year ago, and even she got turned down.

With his track record of rejections, it's not hard to predict how future confessions will go. Yet the confessions still keep coming. Like right now.

"Please, Harry? Do this favour for me just this once, and I'll never ask you to do this again. Pleease?" pleads Lavender Brown, clasping her hands together and bowing her head in begging.

"Why are you asking me to deliver your love letter to him? It's not like I'm great friends with him or anything," I say.

"He likes you," says Lavender unabashedly. "He'd be willing to accept anything from you because he's fond of you. He'd never take it from me. I'm categorized as one of his many fangirls, insignificant to him by all means. But you, you're different. He might read my letter if you're the one delivering it."

"How do you know he's fond of me?" I ask skeptically. This is news to me. I've never known Tom Riddle to be fond of anyone, least of all me.

"Because he goes out of his way to talk to you," says Lavender. "Usually, people have to go up to him to talk to him. But he initiates conversations with you and your group. I don't think he'd do that unless he enjoyed your company. " Damn, I think she has a point. "Please, Harry? I have to let him know how I feel, even if I do get rejected in the end anyway. I can't hold back my feelings for him any longer."

With a sigh, I hold out my hand for the letter. "Alright," I say, "but just this once. And don't tell anyone I'm doing this for you. I don't want to suddenly become Tom's love letter messenger for everyone."

Lavender flashes me a dazzling smile. "Thanks Harry! I knew I could count on you! Here's the letter." She hands me a sealed pink envelope. I take the envelope from her hands and head out of the common room, shoving the envelope into my pocket. It's then that I realize I have no idea where Tom is. But dinner is starting soon, so perhaps I'll catch him in the Great Hall, or catch him leaving it.

I head towards the Great Hall, keeping a lookout for any sign of Tom. I don't see him anywhere though, so hopefully he's in the Great Hall, waiting for dinner.

Sure enough, when I arrive at the Great Hall, I see Tom unusually sitting by himself at the Slytherin table. Where are his friends?

Oh well. The less people that see me delivering this letter, the better. I head towards the Slytherin table, coming to a stop beside Tom. He looks up from the table at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise," says Tom. "What's so important that you need to visit me at the _Slytherin _table, of all places?"

"I have a letter for you," I say, taking the envelope out of my pocket and holding it out for Tom to take. Tom makes no move to take the envelope, however. Instead, his lips dip into a frown as he surveys me. Oh no. Maybe he thinks the letter is from me!

"It's not from me," I hastily clarify. "It's from Lavender Brown, my housemate."

"Let me guess," says Tom. "She sought you out to give the letter to me, hoping I'd accept it if you were the one who delivered it to me." I nod my head in affirmation. Tom sighs, tearing the envelope and letter in two. "Don't bother giving me these letters anymore. I'm not interested in any of my admirers."

"Practically the whole school is in love with you. If you're not interested in any of your admirers, who are you interested in then?" I ask, curious.

"Do you really want to know?" asks Tom. I nod my head. He beckons me closer, so I lean down until my ear is level with his mouth. Hot breath tickles my ear as I wait for him to tell me who he likes.

"The messenger," he says into my ear. I stand up straight, furrowing my brow. Who's the messenger?

I voice my thoughts aloud, staring at Tom quizzically.

"Are you serious?" says Tom, looking at me like I'm stupid.

"Hey, it's not my fault you choose to talk in riddles. How am I supposed to know who 'the messenger' is?" I say in my defense.

Tom sighs. "You're hopeless. Who else could the messenger be?"

"How should I know?" I say. "You probably get tons of letters delivered to you daily. That means you have many messengers. How am I supposed to know which messenger you're talking about?"

"It's all about context, Potter," says Tom.

"Context?" I repeat. What context is he talking about? In this context? But in this context the messenger is...

"Me?" I say incredulously. He likes _me?!_

"And he wins the prize," says Tom, smirking. He likes _me?! _

I stare at Tom, wide-eyed. He seems entirely too calm for someone who just confessed his feelings.

"It's customary to tell the other person how you feel after he's confessed his feelings for you," says Tom, looking at me expectantly.

What am I supposed to say? I've never considered anybody in that way before, least of all Tom. I don't know how to respond to him.

"Umm...I don't know?" I say. Tom frowns.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he asks.

"I mean, I've never thought of anybody like that before," I say, placing my hand behind my head in embarrassment. Honestly, I don't even know if I'm straight or gay, but I'll admit that I think Tom is handsome, if that counts for anything.

"I suppose we'll have to run a test to see if you're attracted to me," says Tom. I raise an eyebrow.

"What sort of test?" I ask.

"A simple test," replies Tom. "It shouldn't take longer than ten minutes max. Meet me in the abandoned girls' washroom after dinner. We'll do the test in there so that we have some privacy."

"What about Moaning Myrtle?" I ask skeptically. "Won't she see us if we do it in there?"

"She won't be a problem," Tom replies swiftly. "I'll charm her into leaving the washroom for a while so that we have some privacy."

"Alright," I say. "I'll see you after dinner then." I walk away from the Slytherin table, heading towards the Gryffindor table.

Once I arrive at the Gryffindor table, Lavender walks up to me.

"Well?" she says eagerly. "How did it go?"

"He ripped the envelope in two once I gave it to him," I reply honestly.

"Oh," says Lavender. She bites on her bottom lip, her eyes becoming watery. Oh no. I think she's about to cry.

"Don't feel too sad," I say hastily. "He's rejected everybody else too. You're not the only one he's turned down."

Lavender sniffs. "I suppose you're right. I just wish he would like me back. I'd be the best girlfriend he'd ever have!"

"I'm not so sure he's into girls," I mutter to myself, remembering his confession only minutes ago.

"What'd you say? I didn't hear you," says Lavender, cupping her hand behind her ear.

"Nothing!" I say hastily. "Anyway, dinner's ready, so I'm going to sit down and eat with Ron and Hermione, okay?"

"Alright," says Lavender. "Thanks, Harry. I appreciate it, even if I did get rejected."

"No problem, Lavender," I say before leaving her and walking to the other end of the Gryffindor table, where Ron and Hermione are sitting. I greet them before taking a seat across from them. As soon as I sit down, food appears before our eyes. I arrived just in time.

I eat silently, half-listening to Ron and Hermione talk, and half-wondering what test Tom is going to do to see if I like him or not. All too soon, dinner ends, and I excuse myself from my friends, saying I need to look something up in the library. I leave the Great Hall, making my way slowly towards the abandoned girls' washroom. When I get there, I look around to see if anyone's watching me. Seeing no one, I push open the bathroom door and walk inside.

As soon as I'm in, I see Tom leaning against one of the sinks, watching me. An awkward silence rises between us, so I break it by clearing my throat and saying, "So what's the test you're going to do?"

"Come stand in front of me," orders Tom. Obediently, I do as he says, walking over to him and standing in front of him.

All of a sudden, his hands clamp around my wrists in a vice-like grip, so that I cannot pull away no matter how hard I try.

"Hey!" I exclaim. "What's the - mmph!" Tom cuts me off by pressing his lips firmly against my own.

Oh. My. God. He's kissing me! I can't believe it! Tom Riddle is kissing me! I open my mouth in surprise, and Tom's tongue slips inside, caressing the walls of my mouth. When his tongue rubs softly against my own, I cannot help the moan that escapes my lips.

When he finally pulls away, we're both left breathing heavily. A smirk graces Tom's lips as he stares at me in the aftermath of our kiss.

"You liked it," he states smugly.

"Just because I liked it, doesn't mean I like you," I retort, crossing my arms. "That was a stupid test. I thought you were going to do a spell of some sort. That would have been more appropriate."

"A spell is not necessary to reveal what the body knows. Attraction starts with the physical, after all," Tom says.

"Attraction may start with the physical, but it ends with the heart. And my heart is not yours," I say firmly.

"Not yet, it isn't. But I will possess it in time," he says, so arrogant and sure of himself.

I cross my arms in front of my chest. "Keep dreaming, Riddle. That's as close as you'll get to having me."

Tom raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

"It's a statement. And a very true one at that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my common room." I turn on my heel and walk towards the door.

"I'll have you, no matter what it takes," I hear Tom say as I leave. "Mark my words, Harry. You _will_ be mine."

As the door swings shut behind me, I inwardly shiver at his words, which sound so full of promise that I almost believe him.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first two chapters! It makes my day seeing your responses. Now, without further ado, here's chapter three!

Off My Radar

By heeha

Chapter 3

A week has passed since my encounter with Tom in the girls' bathroom. I haven't said a word to him since then, and if things go my way, it'll stay that way. After all, what am I supposed to say to him after _that? _He just made things unbelievably awkward between us with his actions and words. And I don't know how to deal with unbelievably awkward situations.

His last words to me in the bathroom have been at the forefront of my mind lately. What could Tom possibly do to make me his? Imperio me? While that is a possibility, I don't think he would do it. I wouldn't truly be his if he imperioed me. I'd only be his because he commanded me to be. And something tells me that that wouldn't be enough for him. When he said that I would be his back in the bathroom, his tone sounded as if he was promising to possess me completely. He wouldn't be able to do that by imperioing me. In order to possess me completely, he, at the very least, needs my devotion, if not my love. And he can only have my devotion if I choose to give it to him. It's not something that he can just take from me by force, nor is it something he can get by coercing me to give it to him.

Tom probably knows all of this already. He's one of the smartest, if not the smartest, students in school. If he's determined to have me, as he seems to be, then I'm sure he'll try to create a situation that entices me to pledge myself to him. That's the only way he could possibly hope to obtain me.

What kind of situation would lead me to pledge myself to him? I'm not too sure. But it'd probably have to be something significant. Something that would rock my core to the point where I'd want him to have me. I can't presently say I know of any situation that meets that criteria. I don't want any situation to meet that criteria.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Tom's a bad guy. He absolutely deserves someone who will love him and be devoted to him. I'm just not so sure that someone should be me. I don't think I'm ready to give that much of myself to someone. To anyone.

Sigh. Why did he have to pick me? Out of all the people he could have, why does he want me? I'm not particularly special or anything. I'm not brilliant like Hermione, nor am I particularly attractive, like him. I'm just plain Harry. Sure, I may be good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and sure, I may be a good Seeker, but that's about it with me. Nothing else really distinguishes me from everyone else.

...

Okay, so maybe that's a lie. There is one thing that also might distinguish me from everyone else. That thing is the fact that I don't covet him like practically everyone else in the school. I respect him, yes, and I may even admire him a little, but I've never really wanted him in particular. I've never really wanted anybody, to be honest.

Yes, I think that could be the reason why he wants to possess me. Because I'm one of the few people who don't desire him. It's the classic 'he wants me because he doesn't have me' case. Once he does have me, once I do desire him, he'll lose all interest in me and leave me. This means that I should never give myself to him, because he doesn't truly want me. He doesn't truly love me. But then again, if I don't give myself to him, he might not stop trying to claim me. So if I want to get this over with quickly, I should pretend to let him have me, and then wait until he gets bored of me and leaves me. But there's a problem with that.

In order for me to let him have me, I'd have to act as if I want him, as if I desire him. And I effectively screwed that up in the washroom. If I suddenly did a one-eighty and professed my love to him, I'm sure he'd get suspicious. Tom's no idiot. He'd know something is up in a heartbeat. I'm not sure what he'd do if he found out that I was playing him, and I'm not sure I want to know either. This leads me back to square one.

Ugh. All this thinking about Tom is giving me a headache. Wearily, I rub my temple to soothe the sudden pain. When the pain subsides, I check the time, noting that it is now ten o' clock in the morning. It's the weekend, so there are no classes today. Thank god. I don't know if I'd be able to concentrate in class when my head is currently filled with thoughts of Tom.

Getting out of bed, I go to the washroom, brush my teeth and wash my face, before going back to my bed and changing out of my pajamas. I head out of the room once I'm done, going down to the Gryffindor common room. I don't spot Ron nor Hermione in the common room, so I assume they're already in the Great Hall eating breakfast. I leave the Gryffindor common room and make my way towards the Great Hall.

Once I arrive, I head to the Gryffindor table and spot Ron and Hermione sitting somewhere in the middle of the table. Luckily, there's no one sitting across from them, so I plant myself there and begin piling food onto my plate.

"Morning, sleepy head," says Hermione, smiling at me.

"Morning," I reply absently, my attention mainly focused on putting some scrambled eggs onto my plate. After adding a bit of bacon and hash browns, I start eating my food.

"What do you guys want to do today? Even though the professors have piled it on, I don't feel like doing homework just yet," says Ron.

Hermione frowns. "The fact that they've piled it on means you should get to it even more. I finished all of it last night. It's not hard. It just takes some time to complete it."

Ron rolls his eyes. "Figures you'd be done already. Any chance we can copy off of you? Your homework is the best!" He flashes a grin at Hermione, whose frown morphs into a scowl.

"Don't be lazy!" she scolds. "Do your own work." She crosses her arms in front of her chest, signaling that she will be unyielding regarding this matter.

Ron sighs. "Well, it was worth a try. But I still don't feel like doing it. Fancy playing a game of wizard's chess, Harry?"

I shake my head. "No thanks. I think I'm gonna do a bit of flying after this. I haven't been on my broom since the last quidditch match."

Ron pouts. "Fine, be that way. I'll play wizard's chess with someone else."

I finish my breakfast and say goodbye to Hermione and Ron before heading back to my room. After grabbing my Firebolt, I make my way to the quidditch pitch. Immediately after I turn a corner, I spot Tom up ahead talking to someone. Quickly, before he has a chance to see me, I double back a bit and use an alternative route.

Phew. That was close. I'm not ready to face him again. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to face him again after our meeting in the washroom. So for now, I'm going to stick to avoiding him at all cost. It shouldn't be too hard to do. We are from different houses, after all.

After a few more minutes of walking, I finally arrive at the quidditch pitch. The sky is clear and sunny, and there's a slight breeze in the air. Altogether, pretty good conditions for flying.

I mount my broomstick and kick off from the ground. Once I'm high enough in the air, I start to do laps around the quidditch pitch. After my second lap, I pick up the pace, going twice as fast as my previous laps. In just a few minutes, I complete five laps around the pitch.

As I get started on my sixth lap, I notice someone on the ground, watching me. I can't tell who it is from my position in the air, so I fly lower and move closer to the person.

Cedric Diggory.

Abandoning my sixth lap attempt, I make my way towards him, dismounting from my broomstick once I reach him.

"Nice flying," says Cedric, his lips quirking up into a smile.

I flash him a smile in return. "Thanks. I didn't know I had an audience until now." Looking him over, I notice that he doesn't have a broomstick with him. That's odd. Why's he here, if not to fly?

I voice my question aloud, looking at him curiously.

"I was going to run a few laps around the pitch, but I got distracted when I saw you flying around," he replies. Oops. My bad.

"Sorry," I apologize, smiling sheepishly at him.

"Don't be. It's my own fault for getting distracted." His gaze slides to my broomstick. "That broomstick of yours is really fast. What model is it again?"

"It's a Firebolt. My godfather Sirius bought it for me." I hold out my broomstick to him. "Wanna go for a spin?"

Cedric shakes his head. "Not today. Maybe next time. I came here to run. Gotta keep myself in shape and all." He starts to stretch his body, raising an arm high above his head and leaning to the left. "You gonna continue to fly?"

"Nah. I've done enough laps around the pitch for today, and I don't want to distract you. The pitch is all yours now. Have fun." I start to move past him when suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist. I look down at the hold before looking up at Cedric's face. Why'd he stop me?

"Why don't you run with me?" he asks. "I could use a running partner for once."

My lips quirk upwards into a small smile. "I don't think I could keep up with you if we ran together. Your legs are longer than mine."

"I can go at your pace, if you'd like," he offers. "C'mon! It'll be good for you. When's the last time you ran?"

"I don't remember," I reply. "A long time ago, I guess."

"So that's all the more reason why you should run. Besides -" he smirks at me "- I'm not letting go until you say yes."

I let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll run with you. Just let me put my broom to the side."

"Okay." Cedric releases his hold on me.

I walk to the quidditch pitch entrance, leaning my broomstick against the wall beside it. After staring at it for a couple seconds to make sure it doesn't fall, I turn around and walk back to Cedric.

"You should start and set the pace," he says.

"How many laps are we doing?" I ask.

"As many as you can," he replies.

"Alright." I start running at a moderate pace for me. In a few seconds, Cedric is beside me, matching my speed.

We run together for what must be about half an hour before I finally stop where we started, unable to run anymore. Cedric stops a few steps in front of me. He turns around and walks to my side, a grin on his face.

"That was great!" he exclaims. "You have really good endurance, especially for someone who hasn't run in a long time." I thank him for the compliment through my heavy breathing.

God, I'm so tired. My legs are aching. I sit down where I stand, looking up at Cedric, who, aside from breathing a bit harder than normal, looks unfazed from our run.

"We should do this more often. It's much more pleasant to run with you." He sits down next to me, watching me as I breathe heavily from the exertion.

It takes me a few minutes before my breathing normalizes. Cedric remains quiet the whole time, just watching me catch my breath. A comfortable silence stretches between us.

"So," he finally says after a while, breaking the silence, "what are you gonna do after this?"

I shrug. "Dunno. Homework, I guess. I have a lot to do. What about you?"

"Ditto," he replies. Another smile forms on his face. "Wanna do homework together? We can help each other out."

I perk up at his invitation. "Sure, that would be great! After lunch in the library sound good?"

Cedric nods his head. "Sounds perfect. Meet me at the entrance, okay?"

"Alright." I finally get up from the ground. Cedric follows suit. Together, we head towards the entrance. I pause once we arrive, seeing a piece of parchment lying on the ground next to the entrance, my broomstick nowhere in sight. Frowning, I pick up the piece of parchment.

"Where's your broomstick?" asks Cedric.

"Dunno. I found this -" I hold up the piece of parchment "- in its spot."

"Well, what does it say?"

I look at the words on the parchment. I feel a knot form in my stomach as I process what they say.

"Harry?"

I look up at Cedric and quickly fake a smile. After rolling up the parchment, I put it into my pocket and head towards the exit. Cedric falls into step beside me, silent. He's probably waiting for me to say something. I have to BS something up fast.

"The Weasley twins apparently took my broomstick," I lie smoothly. "Said they'd give it back to me in the Gryffindor common room."

Cedric raises an eyebrow. "Why'd they take your broomstick?"

"Dunno. The note doesn't say. Guess I'll find out when I see them." We head inside the castle. After walking for a bit, I tell Cedric I'll see him after lunch and leave him, heading to Gryffindor Tower.

The message on the parchment plays over and over again in my mind.

_I have your broomstick. -TR_


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: So I'm finally back with another chapter. Sorry for the long wait. I've been trying to write the next chapter of "Harry Enchanted," but I've been failing miserably at it. I just don't like what I've written for it, so I thought I would write a chapter for this story instead. I hope what I've written satisfies all of you. I'm very rusty at writing now, so my technical skills and plot formation may not be very good. Depending on the feedback I get, I might revise this chapter later if many of you are dissatisfied with the quality and content. Anyway, without further ado, here's chapter four!

Off My Radar

By heeha

Chapter 4

I stare blankly at the book in front of me, seeing the words but not really reading them. Beside me, Cedric is diligently writing one of his assignments. The scratch of his quill against his parchment penetrates the silence in the library.

I should start writing my assignments too, but I just can't concentrate on them right now. I'm too hung up on the fact that Tom took my Firebolt. My _Firebolt_! Tom's never been interested in quidditch, but even he knows that the first quidditch matches start next week. If I don't get my broomstick back from him, I'll have to use one of the school's broomsticks, and that will put Gryffindor at a severe disadvantage because they're at least two times slower than the current broomsticks all the other quidditch players own. In a tight race for the snitch, I'd surely lose against the other seeker.

I don't want Gryffindor to lose because of me. We've won the Quidditch Cup ever since I've been on the team, and I don't want to break that winning streak now. I _have _to get my Firebolt back from Tom, no matter what it takes. The fate of my team depends on that broomstick!

"Is everything alright, Harry? You've been staring at that page for half an hour now." I look up from the book to see Cedric gazing at me in concern. I didn't know he was watching me. If I did, I would have turned a few pages periodically to give the semblance of reading. Oh well. Too late now.

I smile softly at Cedric, hoping that my unease at the latest turn of events doesn't show. "Everything's fine," I say. "Just thinking."

"About what?" he asks. Damn. I should have known he would ask that question. Now I have to come up with some important, meaningful answer. What's meaningful? Life...love...Love! That's close to the truth!

"Love," I say succinctly.

Cedric raises an eyebrow. "Love?"

I nod my head. "Yeah. Love."

"What about love?" asks Cedric. Dammit! He's probing. Quick, Harry! Think! Let the BS flow!

"Oh, just how love leads some people to do some crazy things. It's a very powerful force, love." There. That's a good enough answer to his question.

Cedric's lips quirk upwards into a smile. "Crazy things, huh? Good crazy or bad crazy?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Both kinds of crazy, I guess."

"Is it really love though if they're doing terrible, crazy things?" asks Cedric.

"I suppose not," I reply. "But if it's not love, then what is it?"

Cedric leans back in his seat. "Want. Need. Possession. Control, to name a few." He stares at me. "What brought on this train of thought?" Tom, obviously, but I can't say that to him. What can I say brought on this train of thought? People...the news...the news! Yes!

"Just an article I read in the Daily Prophet," I lie smoothly.

"Must have been some article to distract you from your homework," comments Cedric.

"Yeah, you could say that." I close the book in front of me and put it back into my bag. Looking at the time, I notice that two hours have passed since we started.

Wow. I wasted two hours thinking about Tom and my Firebolt. Time flies when you're in your head.

I don't think I can get any work done right now, so I should probably go.

I stand up from my seat and pick up my bag, slinging it over my shoulders. I look back at Cedric and find that he's watching me.

"Going already?" he asks.

I nod my head. "Yeah. No point in sticking around any longer. I'll see you later."

After Cedric says goodbye, I head out of the library. I don't have anywhere I need to be in particular, so I start walking in a random direction.

I need to confront Tom to get my Firebolt back. I'm not looking forward to it, but it has to be done for the sake of my team. I should probably look for him now, since I'm not doing anything at the moment. But where could he be? I have no idea where he goes on the weekend. I guess I'll start with the Great Hall, although he's probably not there since it's not dinner time yet. Nevertheless, I guess it doesn't hurt to check.

Slowly, I make my way to the Great Hall, passing other students and ghosts on the way there. I don't see Tom as I walk down the hallway, so I continue my trek to my destination.

After about five minutes of walking, I finally arrive at the Great Hall. Stepping inside, I look over at the Slytherin table to see if Tom's there.

He's not there. But I do see Draco Malfoy and his goons. It'd probably be useless to ask them though, since they probably wouldn't tell me even if they did know where he is.

Sigh. What should I do now? I have no idea where Tom could be, and I don't really fancy ambushing him after dinner. Too many heads would turn in our direction. I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to us and our predicament.

I guess I have no choice but to wait until I see him by himself. There's nothing else I can do at the moment, unfortunately.

Abandoning my search for Tom, I head to Gryffindor Tower. Once I get to the Fat Lady's portrait, I say the password and step inside the common room. Once inside, I head to my room and drop my bag beside my bed. I leisurely scan the room with my eyes, finding no one in the dorm but me. I guess that's to be expected though. It is a nice day out today, after all. Ron and Hermione are probably outside enjoying the sunshine.

...

Outside! That's it! Tom might be outside too!

Quickly, I grab my wand from my bag and stick it into my pants' left pocket. It's not until I'm halfway out the door that it occurs to me that I don't know what to say to Tom to get my Firebolt back. I'm pretty sure, "Can I have my Firebolt back, please?" isn't going to work on Tom. I have to be craftier than that. But what to do...what to do...

I look around the room again until my eyes rest on my trunk.

My trunk has some of my school supplies inside it, my extra clothes, my invisibility cloak...

My invisibility cloak!

I head to my trunk and open it, digging around until my hands touch smooth fabric. I pull out my invisibility cloak and close my trunk.

I don't think I should use my invisibility cloak until I'm close enough to Tom, so I'll need to hide it somewhere. Since I'm not bringing my bag with me, the only place left to hide it would be my other pocket.

I take out my wand and cast an undetectable extension charm on my pants' right pocket. Then I stuff my invisibility cloak into that pocket and put my wand back into my left pocket.

I'm now ready to stalk Tom to the whereabouts of my Firebolt. Hopefully, I can find him before dinner.

I head out of my dorm and the Gryffindor common room. Quickly, I walk down to the main floor of the castle, going outside to Hogwarts' grounds. I scan the area, looking for any sign of Tom. I see people scattered along the grounds, but no Tom. Or maybe he's just too far away for me to see.

I start walking along the grounds, keeping an eye out for Tom. Finally, as I near the lake, I see Tom sitting under a tree, reading a book.

Great. He could be sitting there for hours! I don't want to wait for him to leave. But if I don't wait, I might miss my chance at getting my Firebolt back. Guess I have no choice.

I take out my invisibility cloak and cover my whole body with it. Then, I walk closer to Tom until I'm standing two feet away from him. Tom remains engrossed in his book, not that I expected him to notice me or anything.

I remain standing where I am for what must be fifteen minutes before Tom finally closes his book and gets up. Finally! He's moving!

Tom starts to head back towards the castle. I follow him silently under my invisibility cloak, mindful of where I step so that I don't step on something that makes a loud noise.

When we get back to the castle, Tom heads towards the dungeons. Once there, he stops in front of a stretch of bare, damp stone wall and says the words _Salazar. _A stone door concealed in the wall slides open. Tom steps through it, and I follow behind him. We enter what must be the Slytherin common room, seeing as there are other Slytherin students scattered about the room. I follow Tom to his dormitory, whereupon he opens the door and steps inside. I hastily step inside too just before he closes the door.

The room is unsurprisingly empty. He and I are the only occupants. Tom walks over to what must be his bed and places his book on top of his mattress. Quickly, I scan the area for any sign of my broomstick. I don't see it anywhere around Tom's bed. Crouching low, I look under his bed to see if he put it there, but I also find no trace of my broomstick.

Huh. If it's not in his room, then where the hell is it? Where could he have put it? It's not easy to hide a broomstick, so he couldn't have put it just anywhere.

Tom puts his hand in his pocket and takes something out. I move to his side to see what it is.

He uncurls his hand and I see...a miniature broomstick! Not only that, it's a miniature Firebolt! He shrunk my Firebolt!

It takes all of my willpower to refrain from snatching my shrunken broomstick from Tom's hand. Hopefully, he puts my broomstick down somewhere so I can actually take it back.

But as I watch Tom under my invisibility cloak, he makes no move to put down my broomstick. Instead, he starts to twirl my Firebolt's handle between his fingers. After a couple of twirls, his fingers slip up and drop my Firebolt. It clatters to the floor and rolls toward me, stopping just in front of my invisibility cloak.

Seeing my broomstick in reach distracts me, preventing me from stepping back when Tom reaches down to pick up my broomstick. His hand brushes against the fabric of my invisibility cloak as he picks up my broomstick. He pauses. Shit.

Quickly, I take a step back away from him. Tom reaches his other hand out to where I used to be, thankfully grasping at thin air. He continues to grope around for me like a blind man, so I move to the other side of the room, where he can't touch me and my invisibility cloak.

I watch Tom search for me until, suddenly, he stops in the middle of the room. With his free hand, he takes out his wand and says, "_Homenum Revelio." _

I feel something swooping low over me, and know that I'm caught.

"I know you're here, Harry," says Tom, looking around the room. "You in your invisibility cloak. If you don't come out, I'll throw your precious broomstick into the fire, and you'll never see it again. I'll give you to the count of three before I throw your Firebolt into the common room's fire." A pause. Then - "One!"

He can't be serious!

"Two!"

But what if he is? Then my broomstick is as good as -

"Three!"

"WAIT!" I hastily throw the invisibility cloak off of me. Our eyes meet in an instant. Time seems to stop as our eyes remain locked. Then, slowly, a smirk creeps onto Tom's face.

"Hello, _Harry,_" he purrs. "I knew you would come."

I glare daggers at him. "Give it back, Tom." I hold my hand out, expectant.

"What? You think I'd just hand this over to you?" Tom shakes his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry. Don't you know that everything comes with a price?"

"What do you want?" I snap.

He steps towards me, closer and closer until we're face to face.

"What would you do to have it back?" counters Tom.

"Anything," I immediately say.

"_Anything?_" asks Tom, a glint in his eyes.

"Anything," I repeat firmly.

"How about everything?"

I furrow my brow. "What?"

Tom cocks his head to the side. "Give me everything you can give me, and I'll give you your broomstick back."

"Are you kidding me?!" I exclaim. "No way! How is that a fair deal? Everything for my broomstick? That's insane!"

"Nobody said the deal has to be fair," states Tom. "It all comes down to how much you value your precious Firebolt. If you want it that badly, then make the deal. Otherwise, say goodbye to your broomstick." He takes out his wand and unshrinks my Firebolt, holding the handle in his hand. "I don't even have to go to the common room to burn your Firebolt. I'll just burn it right here. You, again, have until the count of three. One!" He points his wand at my broomstick.

"WAIT!" I shout. "If I give you everything, you could just ask for my broomstick back. How is that fair?"

"I promise I won't ask you for any object, if that's your concern," Tom reassures me. "What I want from you cannot normally be given without your consent."

"What _do _you want from me, exactly?" I ask warily, the answer just underneath the consciousness of my mind.

"I want everything from you," Tom declares boldly. "Your body, your love, and your devotion, to name a few. And I won't stop until I have all of you."

"All of that for my broomstick?!" I say incredulously. "Are you serious?"

Tom raises an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

There's no way I'm giving him all of that for my broomstick! But I still need it back urgently for my team. Guess I'll have to bargain with him. If I give him one, that should be good enough to tide him over. But which one to choose? Love...body...devotion...love...body...devotion...love...body...devotion...

"Well?" says Tom. "Should I count to two, or do you agree to my terms?"

"One for my broomstick," I say hastily. "I'll give you one of those for my broomstick." Tom stares at me, probably considering my counter offer. I hope he accepts, because I'm not willing to give him everything he wants. It's just too much. But one is fine. For my team, I can sacrifice one.

After a long pause, finally, Tom says, "Very well. One for your broomstick." He tucks his wand back into his pocket, his other hand still holding onto my Firebolt. "So, which one will you give me?"

Love, body, or devotion. Which one should I give? Which one can I afford to give? Love, body, devotion. Love, body, devotion.

"Well? Have you made up your mind?" Tom asks impatiently.

I close my eyes and take a slow, deep breath. It does nothing to calm the pounding of my heart. When I open my eyes, I see Tom staring at me expectantly.

Love, body, devotion. I only have to give one. Just one. It might as well be _that _one. For better or for worse. I hope I'm making the right decision.

"I've made up my mind," I declare. Staring into his crimson eyes, which are as red as blood, I say, "I, Harry James Potter, promise to give you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, my -"


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: So after a few months, I finally got around to finishing this chapter. I stayed up all night writing this to make it in time before November, and am sleep deprived, so I don't know how good this is. If it sucks, I'm sorry, and I'll try to rewrite it at a later date. But for now, this is it. I hope you enjoy.

Off My Radar

By heeha

Chapter 5

"I, Harry James Potter, promise to give you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, my body for the rest of the school year, in exchange for my Firebolt. This, on my magic, I swear."

I barely register the tingling feeling that washes over me from swearing on my magic, too focused on Tom's smug, smirking face. This is a side of Tom that I've never really seen before. A dark side to his usual "perfect student" demeanour. Ron was right after all. Tom is a git in disguise. A manipulative asshole. And I just played right into his hand.

What else could I do? If I don't comply with his demands, my broomstick will burn and my team will suffer the consequences. I have no choice. I have to surrender my body to Tom. I don't love him romantically, and I don't think it would be wise of me to be devoted to him, lest he possess me completely. So the only option left to give is my body. As much as I hate the idea of giving him anything at all, my body is the most expendable of the three choices. At least, that's what I think. Maybe that's what Tom thinks too, which is why he seems so satisfied with my decision. I chose what he expected me to choose.

I have no clue as to what he plans to do with my body, but judging by that stupid smirk on his face, it can't be anything good. And there's no way for me to stop him now, not when I just swore on my magic to give my body to him. I only hope that what he does with my body won't be _too _bad. That's about all I can do. Hope. My body is now in his questionable hands. His to use and abuse as he sees fit.

Tom takes a step forward into my personal space, eyes locked with mine. I refuse to be intimidated by him, even if he does own my body now, so I stand my ground and keep still, staring defiantly back at him.

"How cute," says Tom, bringing his free hand up to caress the side of my face. "You act as if you can still oppose me."

I do nothing to stop his caress, more because I _can't _stop it than because of anything else. His hand is warm against my skin, a deceptively comforting touch from someone who provides no comfort at all.

I may not be able to stop him from touching me, but as long as my will goes against Tom and his touch, I will always oppose him. I level Tom with a glare and tell him this fact while he continues to caress the side of my face like a gentle lover.

Tom laughs at me, for some reason finding what I just said to be funny. His lips turn upward into an amused smirk as he gazes at me.

"What's so funny?" I snap. I hardly find what I said to be humorous. His amused response is unsettling, considering the fact that my words were meant to put a dent in his supposed moment of triumph over me.

Tom suddenly stops stroking my face. He lightly pats my cheek twice and responds, "I would tell you, but I think it would be sweeter if you found out on your own what I find so amusing. I suspect it won't be long at all once I start using your body in ways you probably abhor."

"You won't be able to change the fact that I will never, ever willingly want you to touch me," I say fiercely, narrowing my eyes at him.

A wicked grin spreads across Tom's face. "Your will and the appearance of your will are two different things. On top of that, you can't control the way your body feels under my touch. At the height of arousal, when I have you begging me to grant you release, will you really still oppose me?"

"I would never beg you for such a thing!" I exclaim indignantly.

Tom's grin becomes even more devious, if that's even possible. "You will if I want you to," he asserts confidently. And suddenly it dawns on me that giving him my body also entails giving him _control_ of it, down to the very words that come out of my mouth. But even under those circumstances, even at the height of arousal, I would never change my opposition to his touch. I wouldn't. I wouldn't. I wouldn't. I'm not that weak-willed. I'm not that weak.

"Even if you get me to beg, I will never truly want you to touch me. You will never find me to be complicit with your dirty actions." Just saying this makes me feel better about my crappy situation. My will is my light in these bleak circumstances. It is my anchor in this whole mess.

Tom lets out a bark of laughter. "Talk is cheap. We'll see how you respond when the time comes. When you're driven crazy with need, we'll see just how strong your will is." He leans forward and grasps my shoulder with his free hand. "I look forward to breaking you," he murmurs in my ear.

I step away from him and fix him with another glare. "Fuck you!"

"No, I believe _I _will be the one fucking _you," _Tom says matter-of-factly. I can't help the look of horror that crosses my face at his words.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, but I would," says Tom, a cruel smile on his lips. "And I'll make sure you enjoy every minute of it. What kind of lover would I be if I didn't ensure your pleasure?"

"You're not my lover!" I snarl, clenching my hands into fists. "And I would never enjoy that with you!"

Tom looks at me in amusement. "You say that now, but when you're underneath me, screaming and writhing in pleasure, you won't be able to deny your enjoyment of it, not even to yourself."

"I won't be 'screaming and writhing in pleasure'!" I assert aggressively. "At least, not of my own accord."

Tom lightly pats my head twice, as if I were a little kid. "Of course you won't," he says mockingly.

"I won't!" I exclaim indignantly.

"Of course you won't," he repeats in that same, infuriating, mocking fashion. It takes all of my willpower to refrain myself from punching Tom in the face. If I actually did it, I'm sure I would suffer terrible consequences, which makes me glad that I have such strong self-control. "Now then," says Tom, "if you want me to give you back your broomstick, kiss me softly, look into my eyes, and tell me that you're mine."

Oh hell. Oh _hell. _He's turning my body traitor. What a manipulative bastard! As if I would ever do any of this of my own accord!

Wait, that's why he's asking me to do this! Because he knows that I would never do something like this if I had the choice! That _bastard_!

I glower at him and his smug smirk for what seems like ages, intent on getting my displeasure at all of this across, before finally making my move. I move back towards him so that we're closer together, bodies barely touching. Then, slowly, I raise my head up to meet his. My eyes naturally close shut as I gently press my lips against his own. Tom drops my Firebolt in his hand, suddenly bringing both of his hands to encircle my waist and pulling me flush against him during my kiss.

Quickly, before he can respond to me with a kiss of his own, I pull my lips back from his and gaze into his eyes.

"I'm..." I start. "I'm..."

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. _

_"_Yes?" Tom breathes.

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. _

_"_I'm...I'm..."

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours._

"Say it," Tom softly commands.

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. _

_"Say it," _he presses.

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. _

"I'm yours," I finally whisper, the quietness of it making it sound all the more intimate.

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. _

_"_Again," he orders. "Say it again and again."

_Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. _

"I'm yours," I say softly as I gaze into his blood red eyes. "I'm yours."

And as he kisses me deeply, I feel a part of me wither away.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes: I am sleep-deprived. I am posting this sleep-deprived. If there are any inconsistencies, I will try my best to fix them later. For now, I hope you enjoy.

Off My Radar  
By heeha

Chapter 6

The wind whips around me as I stretch my hand out towards the snitch. I sense more than see Malfoy speeding beside me, the snitch flying just out of my reach.

Suddenly, the snitch zips away to the right, flying just out of the reach of Malfoy's outstretched hand. As his hand closes in on the snitch, I urge my Firebolt to go faster. The acceleration gives me a split second advantage over Malfoy. Before he can close his hand around the snitch, I shove my hand in front of his and snatch the snitch from his grasp.

"AND IN A STUNNING UPSET, POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! WITH AN ADDITIONAL ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS, GRYFFINDOR IS THE WINNER!"

Cheers erupt from the bleachers as I slow my broomstick to a stop, pumping my fist with the snitch inside high into the air. My team members come and circle around me, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Everyone's jubilation (minus the Slytherins, of course) makes my spirits soar, and in the moment, I feel like nothing can take me down from this high.

After we dismount from our broomsticks, Fred and George each grab one of my ankles and hoist me up so that I'm sitting on their shoulders. Then they start chanting my name. Soon, the whole team joins in as we make our way back to the castle.

From my raised position on the Weasley twin's shoulders, I look up at the bleachers and see everyone slowly standing up and leaving. The crowd thins as everyone leaves. When only a few people are left, I notice someone standing in the bleachers, watching us. As we draw nearer, I finally recognize the person.

Tom.

And just like that, the sight of him drains away my joy from our win.

I got what I wanted.

Now, it's only a matter of time before I have to pay the price.

* * *

I've never believed in running away from one's problems. Never believed in running away in general. I've always stood up to adversity and faced it head on, no matter what the outcome may be. And each time, I've always emerged alright in the end.

Will I be okay after Tom is through with me?

My uncertainty has me worried. I don't know if I'm strong enough to endure whatever Tom plans to do with me. I want to believe that I'm strong enough to take it all on. I want to believe that I'm strong enough to fully face everything he may do to me and with me while he owns my body, and strong enough to come out of it all intact.

I want to believe in my own strength. But I've never been in this situation before. So I don't know just how strong I am in the face of my current situation.

I don't know when Tom and I will meet next. I haven't run into him, so far, after the game, but an encounter with him seems more like an inevitability rather than a possibility. And I don't know what he will do to me or make me do. All I know is that I have to prepare myself for the worst for the rest of the school year. This school year that has just begun.

"Harry!"

I turn my head in the direction of the voice, and see Ron and Hermione waving at me. I force myself to smile at them and walk over to where they're standing.

"Where have you been since the game ended?" Hermione demands. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

I place my hand behind my head as my smile turns sheepish. "Sorry, Hermione. I've just been walking around the school. I needed a bit of time to myself after being constantly bombarded by cheers and congratulations for our victory against Slytherin. It was getting a bit suffocating."

Hermione's eyes soften at my response. "Oh, Harry. I guess you're still not used to all of the attention, even after all this time."

I nod my head, inwardly glad that she's bought my phony explanation. "It never gets comfortable."

"You're lucky, mate," comments Ron offhandedly. "No one pays any attention to me."

"Oh, _Ron_," Hermione sighs exasperatedly.

"What?" Ron defensively crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm just saying the truth."

"ANYWAY," Hermione continues, "I was thinking that the three of us could have lunch outside. A nice, peaceful picnic under a tree." It's then that I notice Hermione's holding a picnic basket in one of her hands.

A genuine smile crosses my lips at the thought. "That sounds like a great idea, Hermione. Let's go."

The three of us walk outside to one of the great oak trees surrounding the castle. Hermione pulls out the checkered sheet covering the food in the basket, and together, we spread the sheet out flat against the grass before sitting on it. Hermione sets the basket down onto the sheet, giving me a full view of all of the sandwiches inside it.

I pluck one out of the basket and take a bite into it.

Ham. Plain, but still delicious.

I watch as Hermione and Ron each take a sandwich out of the basket and start eating too. A silence settles over us for a few minutes before Hermione breaks it.

"So I ran into Tom the other day," she starts, taking another bite out of her sandwich, "and he seemed much happier than usual."

Ron swallows down the last of his first sandwich and reaches for another one in the basket. "What was he so happy about?"

Hermione stares pointedly at me, and alarm bells start going off in my head. Shit, shit, _shit_. Did he tell her about our exchange? But why the hell would he do that? It makes no sense. It would totally ruin the perfect image Hermione has of him, and I see no reason why Tom would want to destroy Hermione's image of himself. It would only work to his own disadvantage.

I blink my eyes in faux innocence at Hermione. "What?"

Hermione rolls her eyes and sighs. "Don't play dumb, Harry. The jig is up. Why didn't you tell us that you and Tom got together?"

Ron chokes on his sandwich and coughs back up his bite of it, spitting it out onto the grass around us. "OH MY GOD!" he exclaims. "YOU AND TOM?!"

"Ron! Keep your voice down!" scolds Hermione. "Do you want the whole school to know?"

"Sorry! Sorry!" apologizes Ron. "Just...wow. You. And Tom. You and Tom. You and Tom, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s -" I scowl and punch Ron hard on the arm. "OW! Geezus! I was just teasing you. No need to get violent."

I glare heatedly at Ron. "I don't like being teased about my relationship with Tom." I look down at the grass and mutter, "Especially since I have no real choice in the matter."

Thankfully, my last comment goes unheard.

"Speak of the devil, here he comes now." With a heavy sense of foreboding, I follow Hermione's gaze and see Tom leisurely walking towards us. Each step draws him closer towards us, and draws me closer to my doom. I want to spring up and get the hell out of here right now, but I know that if I do, Ron and Hermione will suspect something is up because of the uncanny timing of my departure. So instead of doing what I _want_ to do, I do what I think I _should_ do and sit with my best friends, waiting for Tom to arrive.

When Tom finally comes to a stop, looming over my sitting form, Hermione beams up at him. "Hi, Tom!" she chirps. "Looking for Harry?"

Tom smiles softly at her (the deceptive bastard), and nods in affirmation. "Actually, I was. I want to celebrate his victory over Slytherin with him, even if it is at the expense of my own House." He places his hand on one of my shoulders and gently squeezes it in a fake show of affection. Instantly, that shoulder stiffens. Tom can probably feel it underneath his palm. But aside from that, I show no outward display of displeasure at Tom's show of affection.

"Awww, isn't that sweet?" coos Hermione, totally oblivious to the reality of my relationship with Tom. "Ron and I can leave you two alone, if you'd like."

My eyes involuntarily widen in trepidation. I want to tell her and Ron to stay. I want to tell them not to leave me alone with him. But before I can say anything in protest, Tom kneels down and snakes his arms around me in a hug, trapping me in his embrace.

"If you don't mind, we'd appreciate it, wouldn't we, Harry?" Tom tilts his head to look at me. To the ignorant observer, Tom looks like the affectionate boyfriend. And unfortunately, everybody around me is an ignorant observer. Only I am privy to Tom's true colours. But I can't expose him for the fraud that he is. Doing that would mean I'd have to tell Ron and Hermione about my binding agreement with Tom, and I'm not about to let _anybody_ know about that. Not a single soul.

I look up at Tom from my position in his arms, and for a second, I see his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly in warning.

There will be hell to pay if I don't agree to get rid of them.

Reluctantly, I nod my head. Then I turn to look at Ron and Hermione. Both of them are sporting identical, shit-eating grins.

If only they knew.

"Well, I guess we better get going." Ron stands up with Hermione. When our eyes meet, Ron winks. "Have fun, mate," he says. Then he gazes at Tom. "I leave him in your hands."

Tom's hold on me tightens visibly. "Thank you," I hear him say behind me. "I'll take good care of him."

I watch numbly as Ron and Hermione cheerfully wave goodbye at us before turning around and making their way back to the castle.

My best friends have unknowingly left me alone with my tormentor.

When they're out of sight, I feel Tom's lips graze my ear.

"I finally have you all to myself," he murmurs, and I feel, rather than see, his lips twitch upwards into a smirk.

"Let's have some fun now, shall we?"


End file.
